


The Present from Lilith

by BelivetAndAird (rcks)



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018), Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018) RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, F/F, Fluff, Lesbian Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan, Love Triangle, Mary Wardwell / Lilith, Mary Wardwell / Madam Satan, POV Mary Wardwell, Romance, Slow Burn Zelda Spellman/Mary Wardwell | Madam Satan | Lilith, i wrote this in a bout of insomnia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 03:24:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19076491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rcks/pseuds/BelivetAndAird
Summary: Concept: Picking up from the last episode of Part Two, Mary Wardwell is back after Lilith ascends as the Queen of Hell. After running into Sabrina, Harvey, Rosalind, and Theo, Mary walks into the establishment, pays for her meal and continues back to her secluded cabin.Eventually, Mary finds herself pursuing a rather odd romance that brings self-love to another level.





	1. Coming Home

_Those children looked at me like they’ve seen a ghost…oh goodness me, how I’ve such a migraine… and how had I not noticed before how absolutely blonde that Sabrina is?_ Mary’s thoughts raced on as she drove down the long, narrowing road. She continued this meaningless chatter to herself, but finally switched on the radio—the sounds of Lakmé, her favorite opera, numbing her migraine. It reminded her of simpler days, as a young woman she dreamed of pursuing a career in opera…had her mother not fallen ill, forcing her to move back to Greendale…

She drove on.

After what seemed like an eternity, she approached her driveway and noted a faint light shining through the window of her living room.

 _Funny,_ she thought, _I never leave the lights on. I’ve failed in my efforts to conserve energy today, I wonder what the ecological repercussions will be just by my leaving the light on for…well, I don’t know how long._

Walking up to the front door and fumbling with her keys, Mary’s hands began to shake. The realization of just how serious her memory loss was loomed over her and her stomach dropped. Not only did she not know how she got to town or how long she had been out, but she noted the warmness of the air, the sounds of rapid cricket chirps, and the lack of frost on the ground.

 _Crickets? How unusual for it being October in Greendale…normally they start to appear in the Spring_.

Stepping inside, Mary slipped off her coat and swiftly took off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. Her migraine dulled and was now replaced by a nervous sweat caused by the realization that she might need a lay down and a cup of tea. Wandering around a bit without her glasses off, she hadn’t noticed right away the woman who sat quietly in the corner of the room and continued on to the kitchen, where she put a kettle on.

“Some nice chamomile might help. Mary, you really must learn to calm yourself! All this nervous energy will get you nowhere, you old worry wart!” She chuckled to herself and shook her head softly as she leaned against the kitchen counter. “Honestly, what would Adam say…”

And Adam, she hoped he was safe and sound. She hadn’t heard from him in quite a while. Just then, the kettle screamed and startled her to high heaven. Slipping her glasses back on, she placed her tea on a tray with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and proceeded towards her living room.

“What on Earth…”

The furniture her father had crafted himself when she was a child was gone. The tables, the chairs—all replaced by two single chairs with high backs. Mary stood in the doorway of the living room dumbfounded and perplexed, taking in the changed room. Her cross above the fireplace was upside down, her small houseplants devoid of life, and _where_ were the pictures of Adam and her? And her family photos?

_I really must be losing my mind I must—_

A hand caressed her shoulder from behind and she froze at the cool touch.

“You needn’t worry, dear. I’ll explain everything, in due time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I thought I'd test my hand at this whole fanfic writing business since I can't sleep and I keep thinking about what happens to Mary after leaving the diner. 
> 
> This is my first fic, just to test the waters. I have quite a plot worked up in my head thanks to insomnia driven imagination. I'm definitely open to suggestions / feedback :)
> 
> Come and say hi on tumblr! @belivetandaird


	2. Catching Up

Once again, Mary’s stomach grew heavy as lead. She swore she had locked the door behind her, her mind was racing and panic bubbled in her chest. There was not much crime in Greendale, as the town was small, the chances of even a break in were highly unlikely. Yet Mary couldn’t help but think of the worst as she turned slowly to face the voice behind her, her anxiety causing her breath to escalate as if she had just climbed a mountain. The anxiety Mary felt was unbearable… And finally, when she did turn to face this figure, she encountered a pair of glacial orbs and a nest of unruly brown hair.

“Oh, Lord…”

It was then that she was overcome—her body betraying her. A reverberating ringing sound filled her ears, her vision muddled and her mind was pulled from her body into unconsciousness abruptly. She was not usually the fainting type, however Mary could not handle the sight before her so soon after suspecting there might be something suspicious in the way that her memory escaped her. Mary normally wasn’t the type to forget, she had always been sharp as a whip. And now, she lay a pathetic heap on the floor of her family home before an intruder that so resembled herself.

 

* * *

 

She went down, hard. Her head audibly cracking against the hardwood floor. Stoically watching Mary unravel in front of her, Lilith rolled her eyes so hard they would have popped right out of her skull had she not enchanted this body to perfection.

“Oh, for Satan’s sake. This woman is quite exhaustingly sensitive...” gritting her teeth. After a while of staring at the woman crumpled below her, Lilith sighed, “There was really no need to be so dramatic, I could have appeared in a much worse state. I thought it would have been nice for her to see what this skin bag would look like if she put a little effort into it.”

She continued to stare for a beat longer, cocking her head thinking _how awkward it would be to simply wait until Mary came to while she was still on the floor?_ _And there was that sickening noise that came when her skull hit the floor._ No, she’d better deal with this. The woman is already a bundle of nerves enough as it is, best not to make situations worse. With that, Lilith flicked two fingers upward heaving Mary upright, placing her into a lounge chair to appraise the potential damage she took. Perched on the arm of the chair, Lilith first cast a spell to place the spilled tea  and sandwich nearby then turned her attention back to the woman.

A slightly sweet smell wafted from Mary’s hair, to which Lilith delved into and dabbed at a small cut on the side of Mary’s head. Licking the blood off of her finger, she instinctively touched the wound again, then softly trailed down the unconscious face.

_These fucking mortals, they’re so fragile it’s quite a nuisance, honestly. You knock one down and they start bleeding like pussies._

Lilith softened at the slight smile that her touch invoked on Mary’s face. How could she have grown so fond of this woman just by imitating her for all this time? Living in Mary’s shoes taught her to view life in a different manner—she’d felt loneliness, yes. But she’d also fallen in love, in more than one way. She created a family in Greendale, she learned to love living as Mary Wardwell; and considering each body she’d possessed and life she’d encroached over the centuries, Mary was her favorite. In body and soul.

Several moments passed and Lilith lost herself in her thoughts—her memories, rather, of _being_ Mary. She had been staring at the woman she came to love for so long that she hadn’t realized she had been lovingly caressing Mary’s face—her face—until the woman stirred beneath her. Mary’s eyes opened, and the slow realization of her situation creeped in and was reflected in the bewildered expression she adopted. A hand swatted at Lilith, who instantly drew back. Mary looked thoroughly frightened, almost petrified by the sight of Lilith—her doppelganger.

“Alright, so let’s try this again. Shall we?” Lilith offered a weak smile. “Now try not to feel overwhel—”

“No, no, no. What is this? Am I living some sort of nightmare?”

“Well, technically the nightmare is over, I—”

“What in the devil is this?!” Mary erupts, pinching her skin, checking her clothes, and attempting—but failing—to rise from the chair. Pushing her back down, Lilith attempts to calm her by offering her the now cold chamomile tea. By now, Mary is clutching at the wound on her head, grimacing at the dull ache.

“Perhaps it would be better to sit and listen instead of getting a head of yourself. Here, take this. I believe you made this to calm yourself, and now is as good time as ever for an attempt at that.”

“But…but I don’t understand. You’re…me…? Or at least you appear to be…” _a more seductive and dare I say, stylish, version?_ She finished in her head.

“More seductive is right at that!” Lilith chortles as she lights a cigarette…Mary gazes at her quizzically. “Alright, we’re going to take this slow.”

Blowing smoke into the air, Lilith considers approaching Mary in a more straightforward manner, to avoid further dramatics. In turn, Mary cocks a brow and sheepishly inspects the woman before her, now sitting in the adjoining chair to respect the space Mary requires to feel somewhat safe. _I really must be going insane if I’m imaging myself presenting in such a way as that! Smoking?! Indoors? Why, I don’t even own a blouse that tight. And my hair has never looked that wild yet controlled enough to appear as luscious and full. This is a dream, oh Mary won’t you just wake up already!?_

And at this thought, Lilith continued.

“Mary,” leaning over and taking the woman’s hand, “…you feel the warmth in my hand?”

Slowly the other woman nods.

“This is not a dream. This is not a nightmare.” Lilith pulls back, pinching the bridge of her nose and lets out an exasperated sigh. Finally, extinguishing her cigarette she continues on, “…and everything I will tell you will help you remember—or at the very least fill in the gaps in your memory.”

“Wonderful, splendid. But, who may I ask, are you? Are you me? A ghost of Christmas past…in Spring?” Upon realizing the rather awkward position she is in, Mary gathers herself. Sitting up straighter, more defiant—attempting to seem stronger than she is. On the inside, she felt her mentality crumpling and mistrust rising.

 “Oh darling…” Lilith is amused at her sudden burst of assertiveness. “I'm the Mother of Demons, the Dawn of Doom, Satan's concubine.” Lilith stared in expectation at Mary’s dumbfoundedness, and in a cheeky purr, “…one might say, I’m _that_ bitch, dear.”

Another beat.

“Ok, I possessed you. But let’s not get caught up on the particulars of it all…”

“…you’re fucking kidding me…” whispered Mary.

“Now you talk? And the first thing out of your mouth is profanities, Ms. Wardwell?” Lilith seemed to take pleasure out of Mary’s unraveling, biting the inside of her cheek and looking away at the fireplace. “My, my. We have a long night ahead of us, Mary. You have so much to learn. Luckily I’ve already called into Baxter High to let them know you won’t be in tomorrow. I have a feeling you’re going to need more time to process than I anticipated. You’ve turned out to be quite the bundle of nerves, and dare I say dramatic?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come and say hi on tumblr! @belivetandaird


	3. Desolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shortie but v emotional and slightly angsty. Mary is processing after being filled in on Madam Satan’s shenanigans.

“Now tell me your name again?”

“Lilith, Mother of—”

“Yes,  yes . Mother of Demons, the Dawn of Doom, concubine of Satan.”

It was now 3:00 AM. After walking Mary through her death, and subsequent possession—to which she had briefly fainted in response to, yet again—Lilith started from the very beginning of her time as Mary Wardwell. She explained the prophecy she was tasked to guide Sabrina through, the happenings of the Spellman family and their involvement in the Church of Night, and of course Mary Wardwell’s progress and promotion at Baxter High. Not once did she mention Adam, for fear that the woman would fully break had she known of his death. No, it was safe to save that portion of the story for later. The “whole Satan ordeal,” as Mary referred to it, seemed to be taken as well as anyone could expect being told they’d been possessed and used by a demon to fulfill a demonic prophecy involving one of her best students.

“You _killed_  me ?” Mary whispered.

“Yep.”

“Then why bring me back, when you’ve killed me in cold blood?”

At this, Lilith appeared annoyed. “I’ve led Sabrina to think that you were my gift to her. But over time, I’ve found that you’re much more than that.” 

The Mother of Demons stroked Mary’s face for a brief second before her hand was batted away once more, she remembered who she was in Mary’s mind at the moment and regained her usual stoic nature. 

“What in tarnation! The nerve you have to touch me after...” Mary huffed, ”...why, after all you’ve done!” struggling to find power in her voice yet visibly becoming agitated by the second. A tiny vein bulging near her temple, she leaned forward in her seat and fumed silently. Finally, glaring at the demon before her, she gained collected herself and sat back in the plush chair. 

“Get out.”

The demonesses’ eyebrows shot up and eyes bulged in surprise at Mary’s newfound assertiveness. 

“Fine,” Lilith plucked half the abandoned peanut butter jelly sandwich on the tea tray and promptly evaporated.

 

* * *

She’d held her own against the woman—the thing— that had killed her and it took everything in her will to not burst into tears before her. But now, Mary could not hold back the dread and overwhelming wave of despair that washed over her mind. She had sat, numb, seconds after the woman had disappeared. 

_ She took my damned sandwich .  _

The sandwich didn’t matter. What mattered was trying to distract herself from completely losing it all over again, as she felt pressure build in her face and burning tears threatening to spill over. And no matter how hard she tried to stifle the sounds aching to come out of her dry, swelling throat—it gurgled out, uglier than ever. Mary threw herself to the floor in frustration, aching for a way to understand what happened to her and why. It wasn’t her fault, it had nothing to do with her at all—that was the hardest notion to accept. 

After what seemed like an eternity, she transitioned into a fetal lump melted to the floor. Dissociated. 

Mary was too preoccupied to notice that Lilith had not in fact left her, as she thought. But merely transported herself to a far corner of the room, hidden behind the shadow of a large bookshelf, watching sorrowfully upon the woman whose profound desolation she was responsible for. So moved was the demoness that a single tear cascaded, only to quickly be wiped away in frustration. 

_Demons do not cry. Not today, Satan._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been feeling v angsty lately, I guess it translated into writing.


	4. Secrecy

“Again.” She commanded. 

She liked seeing her like this: desperate, pure promiscuity playing on her face. How very different it was from her norm, Lilith didn't need to do much to activate the primal want that burst within the other women, and she took pleasure in that. 

“ _Slap_ me.”

They both stood in front of the fireplace, the woman’s hands unable to move due to a secure binding spell that ensured the ropes tied around her wrists foolproof. Lilith yanks at her tresses, forcing the woman’s head to jerk backward, her face now inches away and anchoring for more contact. 

“You’re needy, aren’t you?” And with a sigh, Lilith relinquishes control, instead preferring to caress her neck softly and is met with a rather frustrated groan.

“Lilith, for _once_ , won’t you muster up the ability to be dominant?” Reaching for Lilith’s hand on her neck, Zelda goads her lover’s hand into squeezing harder—attempting to convince her to apply more pressure, but Lilith’s limp hand aggravates her further. “Really, darling.” She puffs and finally turns around to face Lilith, who glares at her in return. 

“I just don’t have any desire to conduct rough play with you.” Her words are frank, yet firm. Her lips forming a tight line but her eyes are soft. “At least, not on my end...I love you. Understand that...” pushing Zelda’s mussed hair back behind her shoulders, she sighs heavily. “I want to caress you, cuddle you,  coddle you.  You’re different to me, my mentality rebels against adopting a brutish behavior toward you, Zelda. This is new for me, I have a deep desire to be soft. You do this to me.”

Zelda listens intently, staring into Lilith’s eyes and remarks the change of demeanor and emotion in her lover. Lilith’s normal wanton manner has since melted into something more distinctly delicate and loving—it was a good look for her, admittedly. The woman could in no way be described as delicate nor emotional, save for when the woman hunts on men and feasts on their flesh, but that is a thought for another time. 

“Poppycock,” Zelda’s excitement had long gone and was now replaced by sheer annoyance, “Alright, well, we have attempted and failed a perfectly good morning tryst...” 

Looking up and around, her eyes then refocused on Lilith with an expectant look: “Are you just going to leave me standing here like a naked idiot with my hands bound behind my back?!”

“Well, if you’re going to act this way, then the answer is yes.”

“For Satan’s sake!” 

“Oh, you want to bring Satan into this, now, hm?” Lilith having moved over to the bed, plops down and fiddles with a seam that has begun to unravel on the edge of the comforter. She refuses to look at Zelda, feigning interest in a seemingly mindless task. After a beat, she thrusts herself off of the bed to fetch a robe from the dresser and fiddle with her hair in the mirror. All the while, silently withdrawing from the conversation. She had this argument with Zelda before, she did not want to pursue it again. There was so much she had to manage already: becoming the Queen of Hell; splitting her time between the underworld and the terrestrial realm; spending time with Zelda; and, now, taking Mary under her wing. She had led Sabrina to believe that bringing Mary Wardwell back was a gift to her, however, the main reason why she brought Mary back was that for once in her eternal life Lilith felt guilty. Guilty for all the mess she’s caused in this woman’s life. And Zelda’s constant need for rough play did not match up to the vulnerable state Lilith was in at the moment. Thinking of all this, Lilith’s face betrayed her efforts in controlling her visage. 

Zelda, deflated at the sight of Lilith so affected by the spat, realized her mistake in lashing out at the woman. She didn’t know what was going on in Lilith’s mind but she knew better than to ask. Zelda couldn’t have foreseen Lilith becoming so upset, but she couldn’t help but to respond in such a way and now she felt absolutely terrible. 

“That’s not what I meant...”

“No, what you meant was that I can’t give you what you want.” 

And with that, Lilith made her way toward the door secretly thankful for the nest of hair that fell in front of her face that hid the tears that collected. Though she knew full well that Zelda meant no harm, her mind was filled with a myriad of problems that she couldn’t help but think of. She hated what Zelda asks of her when they are intimate, the toughness of it all. She couldn’t subscribe to becoming a contributor to Zelda’s pain—be it physical or mental. She’s already done a number on the Spellman as it is.

Zelda watched Lilith in silence. After a brief period, Lilith turned... 

“I’ll see you at breakfast then, Zel.” 

The door clicked behind her, leaving Zelda standing in the middle of her room—double-bound, naked, and submerged in a world of angst and shame. She walked to the edge of the bed and tipped face-first into the covers—laying flat against the mattress with her hands behind her back. 

_ Ah, fuck. I didn’t think about actually getting up from this... _

 

* * *

 

Once downstairs, Lilith regained composure and heard the clanging of kitchenware accompanied by Hilda’s melodic singing. Peeping into the kitchen revealed Hilda singing to her beloved familiars, who aided her in her cooking process by carrying the necessary tools and ingredients she required in a timely order.

_ Christ on a crucifixion stick, that woman was a real-life Snow White! All that’s missing is the dancing—oop. Might have said that too early. _

Waltzing into the kitchen simulating the same morning pep, Lilith perched on an unoccupied space on the counter nearby. 

“Goooooodmorning, sunshine. How did you sleep? It’s favorites morning, so everything you desire is my pleasure to craft.” Hilda was radiant this morning, at least someone got laid last night and it was the last person in this household you would think to have been. “Where’s Zelds?”

“She’s tied up.” Lilith said plainly, plucking a blueberry from a tart Hilda was preparing to glaze. 

Hilda paused awkwardly and nervously chuckled, unsure if she wanted to venture down the possibilities of what “tied up” would entail and decided it was against her better judgment to address the matter. 

“Anywho, you’ve seen Mary Wardwell yesterday, did you not?” Her brows knitted in worry. “How is the poor lamb? Is she taking the regeneration well?”

“Quite well, I’d say there are no apparent problems. All limbs are accounted for. The poor thing is confused as hell and I suppose that’s normal, so naturally, I needed to spend extra time with her to brief her on what’s what I’m Greendale since last October.”

“Including—?”

“Yes, the whole truth, nothing but the truth!” Lilith wrestled a blueberry from one of Hilda’s familiars, amused at the strength of the little critter. Picking up the blueberry with the spider still clutching on, she made to plop it into her mouth and the familiar jumped out of sight. “—with _reservations_.”

Hilda froze and turned to face Lilith, a quizzical look playing on her face. 

“I haven’t told her about Adam...”

Hilda’s face dropped, “Now, Lil—“

“... nor Zelda.” 

“Lilith!” Now Hilda was glowering at Lilith and furiously beating at the dough beneath her—causing her familiars to scatter and take to the ceiling in refuge. “You can not do this to me, you may be the Queen of Hell but I’m just Zelda’s sister. When she finds out that you’ve confided in me, I’ll be climbing out of that Cain Pit.” 

“Understood.” 

“Not only is Zelda unaware that you are looking after Mary, but Mary is unaware that you are—technically—lovers.” Hilda’s normal timid demeanor has melted away to reveal the steely attitude that the Spellman clan is most known for. “You’ve really got yourself in a pickle, sweets. You sort this out soon, or Zelda will kill you too.”

“If that’s even possible...” Hilda whispers. She suddenly realized that she is quite literally scolding the Queen of Hell. “Fix this, Lilith.”

If Hilda is being this assertive, Lilith thought,  maybe it’s high time I do something about this situation.

There was nothing Lilith could do but smile weakly at the woman and watch as the rest of the household slowly trickled into the kitchen. Save Zelda, who was presumably still bound and struggling against the demoness’ bounding spell. The sourness Lilith and Hilda’s conversation melted into meaningless chatter led by Sabrina with Ambrose occasionally interjecting a cheeky anecdote or two. 

“...and  _that’s_ how Bonnie and Clyde taught me how to do it!” Ambrose had a water gun in his hand, mocking a maneuver the great heists taught him back when before his days of house arrest. 

“Enough of your shenanigans, Ambrose. Sabrina need not learn such tricks, she’s trouble enough.” Zelda appeared with her paper as usual, which she slapped on the table as she placed herself down next to Lilith. She quickly busied herself with fixing a plate, then established a cigarette on its perch and proceeded to spread her newspaper out in front of her—shutting the rest of the table out of future communication. 

“Someone’s sour...” Ambrose teased, “…and looks like they skipped their morning shag.”

At this, Zelda peered up at Ambrose with eyes that could cut a man’s throat. Her brows raised, she hoisted the paper even higher—definitively dismissing her nephew. 

Getting the hint, Ambrose lifted his hands in defeat and nudged Sabrina whispering something about getting the hell out of there before Zelda explodes. 

This left Hilda and Lilith awkwardly staring at each other across the table. Hilda’s head nodded toward her sister, eyes screaming _talk_ _  to her.  _

_NO_ , Lilith mimed back. 

A silent, but intense flurry of gestures unfolded between the two before Zelda slammed her paper down, clearly annoyed. 

“Just what is it that you fools are fussing about.” She appraised each woman. Hilda froze, a terrified smile plastered on her face, she looked across at Lilith who shoved a piece of toast into her mouth and looked away. 

“Well?”

“I’m just going to lea—“ Hilda started to retreat but Zelda reached out and caught her wrist before she could make her escape. 

“You,” pulling her back down to the table, “ _stay_.”

“Lilith made me swear to not say anything, I’m staying true to that. And you can’t kill me again, I refuse.” Hilda held her chin up in fake confidence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Sorry it's been a while, things got pretty hectic, I spilled water on my laptop last week and lost everything. Needless to say, I had to start all over and have been writing the new chapter on my phone for safe keeping. It's longer than the others and (hopefully) better than the last, which was more of a filler i guess hehe. Anyways, I have a general direction of where this is going, but would love some input- so suggestions are more than welcome.


	5. Good Ol’ Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zelda finds out about Lilith's visit to Mary Wardwell. She's angsty (because angsty Zelda is so cute to me), emotionally overwhelmed/is a jealous baby and has a meltdown over Lilith caring for Mary. Zelda has an idea to get out of the house.

“Let me just repeat this back to you, in hopes that I understood correctly. You,” Zelda pointed to Lilith with her cigarette, “feel terribly about killing and replicating Mary’s body, so you’ve begun watching over her like some deranged _voyeur_...”

Lilith more or less nodded in response.

“...then you decided to just appear inside of the poor woman’s home to inform her everything that’s happened while she was _dead_ . Which, unsurprisingly, went unappreciated by dear Ms. Wardwell, who _then_ resorted to breaking down and eventually kicking you out. So now we’ve an injured, knowledgeable mortal who thinks her fiancé is out frolicking in some far away land because you failed to explain that you got him killed.” Zelda paused to take a drag from her cigarette to calm herself simultaneously dunking her teabag in her cup a few times. Exhaling, she lifted the string and flung the bag carelessly behind her—the bag floated its way to the bin rather than flipping to the floor.

The frustration from the floundered tryst this morning dissipated and gave birth to a new range of frustration inside of Zelda Spellman’s mind. She hadn’t been this truly upset in decades, what strung most was Hilda’s silence on the matter and sudden allegiance to Lilith despite her historically steady indifference on the woman. This was simply ridiculous that this mismatched pair would team up to keep a secret right under Zelda’s nose. No, Zelda was not only mad, the jealousy began creeping in and clawing at her heart. Jealous of what? She didn’t quite know.

“In addition to that, you also failed to mention that you, in her what did you call it—?”

“Flesh suit.”

“ _Flesh suit_ ,” Zelda repeats, laughing incredulously, “Decided to begin an affair with me, and make me fall in love with who I _thought_ was Mary Wardwell at the time. This is mere weeks after your ascent as Queen. Stop me if I’m wrong, darling.”

“You’re not...” Lilith slumps over her tea, her usual proud demeanor is absent and casting a pleasing glance at Hilda, she admits defeat. “In fairness, at least you knew I wasn't Mary, almost immediately at that. It was a moment of weakness that I can explain—“

“Yet, you can’t. Because you mucked up.” Zelda sips her tea. “And you,” eyes darting to Hilda, “knew of Lilith’s actions because she confided in you?”

“As much as I would like to stay and sort this mess out, I must be getting along to the shop...” Hilda nodded, then rose to make her escape.

“ _Sit. Down_.” Zelda roared. “Hildegard, I will shove this spoon straight through your neck today.”

A beat.

“Zelds, if I may?” The younger Spellman trailed off, her eyes searching for permission within her sister's narrowed eyes. It was not uncommon that Hilda was put in such a position, usually at the fault of Sabrina’s foolish antics. But this was new, she was acting as friend and defender of the Queen of Hell and she was sweating profusely over the thought of it. She was caught in the middle and the thought of crawling out of that Cain Pit with worms wriggling in and out of her orifices rushed back into mind.

“Hildegard.” Zelda nodded ever so slightly, granting her the chance to atone.

Hilda glanced nervously at Lilith, whose hand flit through the air, sighing: “Oh, go on then. I’ve inconvenienced you enough.”

“Right.” A spider appeared and caressed her finger, a form of comfort sent by the cluster of familiars. “It wasn’t very long after Sabrina had seen Ms. Wardwell in the diner that I decided to pay her a visit at the school with a fresh quiche. I figured she was having a hard time adjusting, considering her death.” Looking down, she fiddled at the spider on her hand. “I know the disorientation that comes with rebirth...”

Zelda shifted uncomfortably.

“I intended to leave the quiche on her desk, as Mrs. Meeks allowed me into Mary’s office unattended. But when I made to exit her office...” Gesturing toward Lilith. “This one burst in, and hardly noticed me standing there! Apparently, as Lilith was walking the halls pretending to be Mary, she saw the real Mary heading towards the office at the same time and-”

“-panicked,” Lilith interjected.

“From there, matters escalated and I swore Lilith to secrecy...”

The conversation drifted on as Zelda grew quiet, festering in the frustration bursting within her. She was past the point of lashing out and now she wanted nothing more than for this conversation to end. And when it came time for Hilda’s shift at Dr. Cerberus’ shop and there was no one in the house but Lilith and Zelda, a great silence filled the space.

* * *

 

She needed time away to think. After the discussion with her sister and lover, Zelda retreated to her office in an attempt to throw herself her biggest project yet—reforming the Church of Night into the Church of Lilith. Though, her mind kept her far from achieving a thing as it continued reverting back to the possibility of another predicament on her hands. She couldn’t comprehend why Lilith was suddenly overcome with remorse for possessing Mary Wardwell.

_What made the woman so special anyway? Two Mary Wardwells galavanting around Greendale would surely open up a new can of worms that I hardly have time to clean up after—what with the church in such a state and my working through the night..._

This was all too overwhelming for Zelda; there were too many thoughts in her head, too many emotions flooding in. The jealousy she felt toward Mary swelled within her heart and she stared blankly at the book before her, pinching the bridge of her nose with a sigh. A familiar wave of silence took over her mind followed by a warmly fuzzy vibration that calmed her irritated state. Magic, but not her own. She hadn’t felt this feeling since...well, she doesn’t like to think of those dark times.

Zelda peered over at her familiar, frozen in place but nonetheless perched upon a luxuriously plush pillow placed on the floor directly facing her desk.

“Tom...” Zelda started, “I—“

 _Don’t say you’re alright. You’re not, if I can numb your pain for even just a moment, I will do so. Or have you forgotten my abilities?_ Vinegar Tom’s kind voice echoed through her mind. This was the only way the two can communicate what with the state he was in.

It has been decades, if not a century already, that Tom had been this way—stuck, debilitated and pitifully paralyzed. It was all Zeldas fault, she was never good at healing spells and after his accident, she wasn’t sure the Cain Pit would work.

Zelda gazed misty-eyed at the dog, recalling the night her heart broke over her failure to revive Tom, at the mess she made of it. This was sending her further into the depths of her mind, an anxious pit.

_Zelda, you need not think of such things in the state you’re in. Nothing is or was your fault, have faith in yourself. Have control over your emotions, you’re in love—and for the first time. It’s wonderful, however, you must recognize when your emotional threshold is overwhelmed...you were never one to tackle emotions adequately, my child._

Vinegar Tom did not so much as bat an eye, he couldn’t. He couldn’t wink at Zelda like her normally would to calm the frantic witch in times of turmoil. How curiously humorous and gestural this dog was before he was incapacitated. He was the opposite of Zelda's stoic nature, they were a perfect duo.

“Secrets, Vinny. It’s the secrets I can’t stand.” Zelda pushed herself away from the desk to swoop him into her arms and feel his warmth. He was hard to the touch, every one of his muscles permanently tensed. But Zelda didn’t mind, she held him close, all the same, kissing the tip of his nose and stroking his belly.

 _You’ve your own secrets, Zeld_ a. Everyone is entitled to privacy. Dare I remind you that you yourself led everyone to believe I am no longer living?

The witch’s deep sigh was ragged and threatened a storm of tears.

“...I’m sorry...” barely a whisper escaped Zelda’s mouth. “You’re more than a statue, I just don’t know how to—“

Just then, Lilith popped her head into the office, “Zel, I’m going—“

The redhead looked up from the frozen beagle in her arms, her face burning from the embarrassment of what this may look like: a deeply upset woman, cradling her dead familiar like a child. Speaking to him as if she were a little girl confiding in a teddy bear. 

In earnest, not a soul knew that Vinegar Tom was alive, not even the Mother of Demons herself. Everyone assumed that Zelda had him stuffed, as she had a healthy collection of taxidermy scattered throughout the Spellman residence and was known to dabble in the morbid practice from time to time. Her family knew that the subject of Vinegar Tom is forbidden, an unspeakable subject with no beginning or end. No one knew why, and no one asked questions. Hilda was the only Spellman with the knowledge that Zelda still spoke to him as if he were listening. She alone knew the trauma that Zelda Spellman endured after his petrification, for Hilda often bore witness to Zelda’s many fits of rage and lachrymose bouts. Tom’s state was an unusual one, there had never been an instance where a familiar was petrified but very much alive. Zelda didn’t want to keep the secret that he was alive, she needed to—to protect her family, to protect herself. 

So when Lilith walked in on the woman with the familiar in her arms, Zelda’s face twisted with hurt reddened with embarrassment for an instant before adopting a blank and defiant stare. 

“—out…” Lilith appraising the scene with a cocked brow. The woman noted the familiar nestled between Zelda’s chest and her arms.

“To tend to Mary, no doubt.” Zelda retorted. 

“Zelda...” Lilith shook her head at this, sighing, “I’ll be at the Academy, there are still many things to repair now that we’ve finished clearing the bodies out… Hilda and Sabrina will be joining me in the afternoon. We can speak about this later.”

Lilith retracted her head and shut the door softly. 

Just then, an idea popped into Zelda’s mind. If she were to play hooky today, she might as well have some fun with it and pay a visit to someone needing a little human interaction. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, it's been a while! I realized I may or may not have forgotten to update, life gets in the way. Anyways, I hope you like the little surprise I included. I have this whole theory in my head about Vinegar Tom not actually being dead but petrified, i have a whole backstory about it but I didn’t know if I should include it in this chapter. Let me know whatcha think about a Vinnie T backstory you guys. In general, I felt like Zelda needed a little warmth and what better way to do that then to add her familiar?


	6. Holiday

It was one of those times that Zelda acted before thinking: she found herself on the stoop of Mary Wardwell’s cottage without a plan, her hand poised to knock upon the slab-like door and rapped once...twice...three times, with no answer. 

 

“Oh poppycock,” she huffed, lightly pushing against the door so that it swung open to reveal the living room. Tears welled in Zelda’s eyes as she remembered time spent in this home with Lilith, their secret affair felt phony and cheap. However serious her relationship was with Lilith, she couldn’t forget the relationship was built on lies…

 

She knew she shouldn’t be here, it would only complicate matters further; she couldn’t help turning up on the doorstep of a woman who she once thought she loved. And now what? She was sitting in her living room doing Hell knows what. If Mary were to stroll in this very moment what was she to say? To a woman who remembers nothing of her but a fleetingly intimate afternoon shared in a record store? And subsequently being pushed away by the woman, who was fearful of stepping outside of her normally reclusive nature. Her time with the real Mary Wardwell was limited—non-existent, really—after said afternoon.  

 

Yet her mind raced with the millions of thoughts flooding in. It hurt knowing she had been tricked to think she fell in love with the real Mary, unaware at the time that Lilith had possessed her. Zelda’s relationship with Lilith was a complicated one—technically, their relationship grew out of the hatred Zelda harbored toward the demon leading Sabrina astray. It was really when Lilith began spending more time plotting with the Spellmans against Lucifer Morningstar that the two began seeing each other in regular intervals. And now that Zelda was emotionally invested in Lilith, she felt uneasy over her lover’s attachment to the teacher. It felt like a violation. Zelda was confused, searching for a way to distinguish her love for the two women—was she in love with Lilith, the illusion of Mary Wardwell cast by Lilith, or the idea of being with Mary Wardwell herself? After all, she had been interested in the real Mary before all the dramatics over the prophecy…

 

Zelda pushed herself off of the chaise she settled into and stride over to a bookcase filled with records. She scanned through, her eyes landing on the very Billie Holiday LP her and the real Mary had bonded over in that little record store in downtown Greendale a little over a year ago. Zelda plucked it out of its order, placing the jacket squarely on the coffee table. She then magicked the vinyl to spin on the record player and scrawled the title “I’m a Fool to Want You” on a napkin, and carefully set it atop the coffee table.

 

Sighing, Zelda melted back into the chaise, lit a cigarette and placed her stockinged feet on the table. If she were to be alone, she’d better make the best of it. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m worried about you, Mare…” 

 

Francis was her oldest, most dear friend. Mary envied the life she led, it was everything she aspired to become. The two met as understudies in the leading Opera House, back when Mary abandoned Greendale for a shot at city life—contrary to her shy nature, she took the metropolitan lifestyle in stride, Mary was free to live her truth unprohibited by small town mentality. She and Francis were thick as thieves even after Mary left the company to nurse her mother in Greendale, even after Mary gave up on her dreams and agreed to marry Adam, though she couldn’t truly love him in the way he wanted. Francis never stopped believing in Mary despite her obvious self defeat. And above all, they never stopped loving each other as sisters do. 

 

“...you’ve given up so much in your life, and now you tell me you’ve lost the memory of the last six months of your life in a depressive bout...and your fiancé’s passing…Mary, I don’t think you should be alone in that sad little cottage… especially after your fainting spell. Won’t you come back to the City again? I could take you on as a vocal coach, I know you still sing. You’re absolutely miserable when you don’t.”

 

“I—I don’t know,” Mary picked at the peeled skin on her hands, “I just need to figure out what exactly is going on with me. It’s sick, Francis, I don’t know. I come-to one night, drive home and discover my entire home is rearranged, my wardrobe is that of some...some _vixen’s_ …and a woman, looking exactly like myself, appears and tells me she’s some demon who possessed me—“

 

At this, Francis chokes on her coffee. 

 

“ _Mare,_ are you—“ she mimes smoking a blunt, “you know you were never good with that.”

 

“No, no.” Mary cracks a smile and looks down at her lap, remembering her slightly more rebellious twenties—she really was a different person now, it was almost disappointing. 

 

Francis cocks a brow at this, there was no other explanation for Mary’s odd behavior. 

 

A pregnant silence fills the air, Mary looks up and away from Francis. There was a couple walking across the street that she spotted, two young women carelessly showing affection. Her cheeks burned and Mary directed her gaze back toward the woman sitting across from her.

 

“I’ve got this strange sensation coursing through my mind. I know I should care about Adam being gone, but I don’t. You’ve known for a while now how I felt about him, I just feel obliged to marry him. I don’t want to be alone, I tricked myself into thinking I loved him because it’s what my mother would have wanted.” Mary sighed at this, turning away to look out past the window again. “I never wanted to be a teacher, Francis. I never wanted a bleak life in Greendale…” she looked up and away, “...the strangest thing is, I remember snippets from those 6 months. I feel like there’s something that Lilith woman didn’t tell me. Something I have moments where I remember a smell, a feel... occasionally a hazy memory will resurface and disappear—”

 

“—Mary, you were a shy little thing even when you lived in the city. Shy, but you _lived_. You can’t change yourself to suit other’s desires. What happened to you? You’re all alone in that cottage and it’s no good.” Francis took a quick sip from her mug before pushing away from the table and standing. “I have to get back to the theatre now…” 

 

Mary looked up and smiled warmly at her friend. Watching Francis walk out of the cafe, she couldn’t help but realize that it was a mistake to confide in her about Lilith. It was foolish to think that Francis would understand how Mary could experience such a thing. Though maybe she had a point? Maybe it was all an illusion. In any case, Mary was determined to enjoy the rest of her time away from Greendale. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

She joined Francis at the theatre later on in the evening and proudly looked in on a beautiful opera which Francis headlined. After the show she joined the company for dinner, drank too much and shared an Uber with a few overly-exhausted members from the company. Her mind was so fuzzied from the drinks she’d slammed back at the club that she didn’t realize she had dozed off until an elbow jabbed at her side lightly. 

 

“We’re at yer spot Mare,” the woman next to her pushed once more at Mary’s slumped body. “You good, hunny?”

 

_Jesus, I can’t even remember the last time I drank so much. I can barely even keep my eyes open._

 

“Yeah— I’ll just erm,” Mary opened the car door and tumbled onto the street, waving away any help that was offered. “I’m fine! Go on home!”

 

There was a struggle to fight the sleep that closed in on her mind, nonetheless Mary somehow managed to clamber up to her room and flop rather unceremoniously into bed fully clothed.

 

_There was nothing Mary loved more than early morning light and opera. She found herself in the middle of Greendale’s one and only record store, combing through jazz records on a Sunday morning. The record store had been there since she was a child, and it was a sort of tradition to visit the Sunday before school was due to start. She was always a nervous child, but she found solace in checking out one of the private listening rooms in the back and devouring each and every record in the jazz section. Today, as an adult, was no different._

 

_On days like this, she would approach the counter, pick up her usual stack of records set aside by Robert, the owner. Her Sunday morning ritual over the years caused her to form a bond with Robert, to which he eventually granted her unlimited time in the back rooms and didn’t reprimand her if she smoked out the room. Goodness knows, the kid needed it, he figures. The shop hardly accumulated customers on Sundays, anyhow._

 

_It was like any other ordinary day when Mary sprawled her out carelessly on the couch, lightly puffing at her spliff, lost in the sounds of Billie Holiday that the door to the room swung open and a redhead peeked her head around to face Mary and exclaimed, “I’ve been looking for this record everywhere and nearly had a fit when I realized someone might have…” The woman sniffed at the air and at once recognized that Mary was in the process of hotboxing the place. She quickly shut the door behind her._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with another bout of insomnia and a fresh chapter. I just started a new job, so things have been hectic as far as having free time / I haven't had much time to write or read fanfic (sad lyfe). I didn't intend for this story to be as slow burn as it's turning out to be, but I've been running with it since it suits what's in the next chapter. Hopefully I can get on a more steady writing schedule? I'm also working on my Vinny T fic, so be on the lookout ;)


	7. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This week’s post is short, but I would like to add a little warning that this chapter is all porn, and little to no plot. 😈

_ Warmth spread throughout her body once more, this time it seemed to radiate from the body pressed against her own. A steadied breath tickled at her ear _ — _ a rich, yet sweet voice singing incoherent verses into her hair. It seemed as though she Mary’s nose dug further down into the warmth of the body underneath her. There were arms around her, caressing the nape of her neck and the curve of her back _ — _ more delicately than anyone had ever touched her before. The woman began to stroke the long of Mary’s torso, each stroke downward causing Mary to swell with want. Knowing this, the woman sang on: _

 

_ “I'm a fool to hold you _

_ Such a fool to hold you _

_ To seek a kiss not mine alone _

_ To share a kiss the Devil has known” _

 

_ The woman’s voice clung on every word, drawing out each syllable with equally slow strokes. The moment between them was so soft for someone she had only just met, yet it felt so...natural. It scared her, only for a second, before her mind was brought back to the stroking that morphed into warm palms planted fully on her hips, and suddenly she was flipped on her back. The woman straddled her carefully and arched over to brush her lips against Mary’s, kissing a painfully slow trail downward. Past her jaw line, onto her collarbones, and tickling at the décolletage before catching an erect nipple in her mouth, lightly nibbling at her.  _

 

_ “Oh, god,” sighed Mary, her hands digging deep into the woman’s hair now, unable to control her arousal. “More.” _

 

_ Taking this as a gesture of consent, the other woman suddenly became alive—and playfully so. The hands once placed on Mary’s hips now scooped up a thigh, pushing it up and over the redhead’s shoulder. She proceeded to swipe lightly between Mary’s thighs, running a finger down the length of her, collecting the wetness that accumulated there and lifting it to her mouth to taste the sweetness of the woman.  _

 

_ “Mmm,” the woman looked Mary dead in the eyes, “you’re quite a delicious little daring, aren’t you?” Mary was so lost in grinding upwards in want that she paid no mind to the words being said to her, she longed for the woman’s touch and was beginning to grow impatient. Her usual shy nature was long forgotten, her mind clouded with want—she didn’t care who this woman was, she just knew that the last time she was touched like this was since before moving back to Greendale. And how she craved this. However, Mary was no longer a wreckless young woman, hooking up with an unknown woman in the back of a shop excited her but it was admittedly uncharacteristic of her to do so—and hesitant she infected her mind.  _

 

_ “Wait,” Mary all but yelled as she attempted, with no avail, to pull the woman away to look at her fully. “What’s your name, anyhow?” _

 

_ “Zelda.”  _

 

_ Suddenly, a tongue flit across Mary’s clit, sending a white hot wave straight through her. Eyes rolling helplessly up to the ceiling, Mary bucked in an instant and seized the woman’s hair again—only this time as if to pull her further into her center. Legs trembling against Zelda’s head, which bobbed incessantly against her throbbing center, Mary couldn’t help herself. Zelda continued lapping at Mary’s hotness and the trembling quickly morphed into a desperate dance of shivers and jerks, subsequently unleashing a string of whimpers and pleas. Zelda moaned into her, she seemed utterly pleased at her power over the woman but she’ll be damned if she led her to her release so soon.  _

 

_ “Oh—” Mary bucked again, more violently. All at once, Zelda ground Mary’s hips down and stopped all momentum she had built against the woman. Both women were profusely sweating at the quickness of their tryst, admittedly, they were exhausted and losing stamina from the weed.  _

 

_ Zelda placed a rather sloppy, open mouthed kiss against her mound and continued on slowly, driving Mary’s moans up an octave or two with each swirl of her tongue. Pulling back, she looked at the woman writhing below her and swiftly pushed two fingers inside of her. Mary was riding her now, impatient and needing more than the steady rhythm Zelda was providing. Her mouth was wide open, singing out toward the ceiling— _

 

The second Mary awoke, her body jolted upright in response to the shock what she just dreamed… 

 

In an instant, it clicked. “A memory—!” Just then the hangover came and she plopped back down onto the bed in sheer pain, her body ached from her foolish drinking,  _ what was I thinking when slamming back those drinks?!  _ Slumped back against the annoyingly fluffy hotel pillows, Mary furrowed her brow against the morning light. 


	8. Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick chapter on Mary and Zelda's past following their one-night-stand in the record store. Zelda takes Hilda's place in attending this year's parent-teacher conference. This chapter is more of a build-up for the next, hehe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Just as I was establishing a schedule for uploads, there was a sudden death in my family that really affected my ability to function for about two weeks. I've had this written up for a while but decided to break this text into two chapters for the sake of slow burn...I know it's short 😬please excuse any mistakes, I'm proofreading this after a couple gin cocktails. 
> 
> Also, I recently made a twitter (by the same name @belivetandaird) and will be more responsive there rather than on tumblr.

Before Lilith revealed she had taken over Mary’s body and played the role of a not-so-innocent school marm, Zelda had always fostered a sort of attraction toward the woman. She’d seen her around town, mostly in Robert’s Record Shop downtown. Mary Wardwell was a lovely woman who shrank away from the people of Greendale, shutting herself away in her cottage— escaping only to visit the shop, really. And it was there that the two women met. Frequenting the shop was a sort of self-care for Zelda and Mary respectively. To Zelda, Robert’s Record Shop was the only place she could escape to without hearing children running about or Hilda’s endless singing in the kitchen. For Mary, it was a place of solace in times of anxiety and melancholy.

 

They shared a fleeting moment— ending with Mary running away after getting dressed in a panic and realizing what she’d done. Her life in Greendale wasn’t supposed to be like this, she had just moved and begun to establish the quiet life her parents so wished for her, complete with a nice Christian man willing to make a wife of her. She chose to leave behind her scandalous city life, she couldn’t go around kissing girls and smoking pot anymore. Her life in Greendale was a complete 180 and she was determined to maintain her squeaky-clean reputation.

 

Zelda couldn’t understand why the brunette fled, nor did she ever have the chance to ask...one thing she did know was that after their encounter, Mary attempted, and succeeded, in avoiding her everytime they crossed paths in Downtown Greendale. The witch was drawn to what was denied to her and took Mary’s avoidance as a challenge. On the rare occasion that the two were near one another, Zelda would gaze upon Mary with knowing eyes that the teacher couldn’t bear. Mary was determined to forget that they had sex—in a public place for crying out loud. She distanced herself as much as possible from the redhead, and it wasn’t until years later that they would come to speak again. What were the odds that Zelda’s niece would end up in her History course at Baxter High—that Ms. Wardwell would become the girl’s favorite teacher and Sabrina, her most outstanding pupil? It was at Sabrina’s first parent-teacher conference that the two women were forced to speak. 

 

Sabrina walked excitedly into the classroom with Zelda in tow, heading straight for Ms. Wardwell’s desk. The room was filled with bratty students and their bleak parents, a nightmare for Zelda. The usual delegate for school-related meetings was Hilda since her kind nature usually did well with teachers’ frustration over Sabrina’s attitude and pranks. Today, Hilda was occupied with preparing long pig back at the mortuary and Zelda was appointed the task of meeting with Sabrina’s teachers this time around. 

 

At first, Ms. Wardwell didn’t seem to take notice of Sabrina’s arrival as she was speaking with Mr. Putnam—rather, assuring him that Susie was a good kid but was struggling academically due to the social pressures of her peers. The moment he turned toward Susie to make a smart joke about her dressing like a “dude,” Mary glanced toward the threshold of the classroom, assessing the crowd, and froze. Her now widened eyes met with the redhead from the bookstore, who stared back in shock. 

 

Mary’s mind was racing a mile a minute, she no longer paying attention to Mr. Putnam’s rather ridiculous views on gender constructs and behavior “young ladies should subscribe to.” Her mind drifted again.  _ She has a daughter?? Did I participate in some bizarre adulterous fantasy this woman held? And why is she looking at me like that, how can she regain composure so quickly?! Lord, can this get any worse, I’m not equipped for this today…  _ and now Sabrina and Zelda were making their way toward Mary at an alarming pace. 

 

“ _ Satan _ , Sabrina… that can’t be your teacher—” Zelda whispered to her niece. 

 

“Aunt Zee, you don’t like people...we get it,” rolling her eyes Sabrina strutted ahead and beamed at the brunette. “Hello, Ms. Wardwell!” 

 

“Good afternoon Miss Spellman,” Mary smiled back, though she was visibly uneasy, feeling the familiar burn of Zelda’s eyes on her, “and you must be Sabrina’s mother?”

 

“No, no. Zelda.” Zelda thrust out a hand to take Mary’s in her own. “I’m Sabrina’s aunt.” 

 

Mary stared at Zelda’s hand and reluctantly shook it. This was going to be a long evening. Zelda Spellman was the last on the list as far as individual meetings with parents went, and Mary was already sweating over being alone with Zelda. 

 

“Right. Lovely to meet you!” Mary’s nose scrunched as she smiled and began to walk back towards her office to begin tackling the list of parents waiting. “Please excuse me, Ms. Spellman, I had better start these one-on-ones or we’ll be here for ages! Feel free to take a seat and socialize, there’s coffee and snacks at the front of the room.”

 

“Ahem, Aunt Zelda?” 

 

“Yes, Sabrina?”

 

“I was just thinking that since—”

 

“—You may go, Sabrina.”

 

Sabrina stared incredulously at her aunt, she thought it would take much more convincing for her to venture off alone. The parent-teacher conferences at Baxter High allowed students to congregate around campus as their parent’s met with instructors. During these conferences, there were carnival-like activities and food stalls available, which were a huge hit with younger students; the older ones usually snuck out to the parking lot or football fields to smoke, drink and hook-up. Sabrina was itching to abandon Zelda to join her new friends and stuff her face with sweets. When she attended these conferences with Aunt Hilda, she was never allowed to leave her aunt’s sight. Aunt Hilda was terribly paranoid at times and overprotective over her niece, not without reason—Sabrina was a magnet for trouble. Aunt Zelda, on the other hand, constantly encouraged Sabrina to experience the world herself and bask in her youth. Besides, there was nothing more Zelda wanted than for Sabrina to leave and give her some time to think about her growing anxiety over having to speak to a woman she had a one-night stand with years ago. Normally Zelda would be unbothered about being faced with this situation but there was something about this woman’s proximity to her kin that unnerved her.


	9. I’ve Missed You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short fluff

A full week had passed since Zelda and Lilith’s spat. While Lilith was no longer upset and turned her attention to rebuilding the Church, Zelda was definitely one to internalize her frustrations and hold on to hard feelings. She was still hurt and insecure over Lilith’s choice in contacting Mary—jealousy set in. Zelda was in the throes of confusion and no matter how hard she tried to hide it from her family, it showed. Whenever Zelda walked into a room in which Lilith was present, she became frigid and silent despite Lilith’s sickly sweet attempts in interacting with her lover. The woman knew that little touches here and there would eventually soften the redhead enough to where she would relax—but not enough to invoke warmth. 

After long days at the Academy, Zelda would head straight for the study and firmly shut the door behind her. There, she would stay until dawn—working, drinking herself into a stupor and falling asleep with a cigarette still clasped in her holder. Every so once in a while Hilda or Lilith would pop their head in to check on her and stamp out what’s left of her burning cigarette when she was passed out in her chaise. Lilith comes in, strokes Zelda’s cheek, tucks a lock of hair back then decides to teleport her into their bed—which Zelda hasn’t slept in all this time. 

She changes Zelda into her nightgown and tucks her in. Then gets ready herself, in the darkness. And sitting at the edge of the bed, Lilith stares into the darkness silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Her nose burns, she wipes a hand across it and rubs her face roughly. Looking up and letting out and angry sigh, she hears the ruffle of sheets and Zelda stirring. 

Lilith’s black silhouette at the edge of the bed is stilled. 

“Zelda,” Lilith’s back turned against Zelda now slowly turned so that her head is turned toward Zelda,but her gaze is buried in the sheets before her, “what’s the matter?” 

Zelda opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Her mouth shut into a firm line, and when she opened her mouth again the only sound that came was a small squeak that caught in her throat—invoking a stillness in the air. A pregnant pause seemed to last entirely too long before Lilith spoke again. 

“My darling, I don’t understand if I have done something wrong...I don’t know what’s going on and it scares me that you just shut me out. We’re a team, you and I. Bonded…” Lilith sighs at this and looks ahead into the darkness again, barely whispering a hopeless “…for what it’s worth…”

A beat. 

“I’m working at becoming a better person, Zelda. I need this coven to be based on humility and trust…” Lilith huffed, “...if this is about—“

Zelda interrupted by quickly reaching across the bed to take her hand buried somewhere in the sheets. She lifts it, gently pressing long fingers against her lips, then kisses her palm. And oh so softly, Zelda pulls Lilith back and into the sheets—turning her back against her lover, Zelda pulled Lilith’s arm across her midsection. Lilith draped herself across the woman and nestled into her neck. It was good to feel her warmth in their bed again, good to touch her without frigidity invading. 

The tense air was replaced by a comfortable wave of familiarity. This was the longest the two had been upset at each other and the first time that they hadn’t uttered a word to each other. Usually, Lilith managed to wrangle her lover out of her silent tantrums. 

It had been hell for the two to live separate lives while still under the same home. Zelda turned to face the brunette, and they lay in bed staring into each other’s eyes, the back of a hand grazes a cheek and their faces are brought closer. There’s nothing but the sound of slow breaths. 

“I’ve missed you so…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi all! I’m back with another chapter I really hesitated with uploading in the past month because of personal matters, mental health and have honestly been feeling insecure about the fandom (don’t @ me but the drama is kind of off-putting and made me feel like I didn’t really want to share too much of myself). I’ve since felt like it doesn’t really matter as I’m not too active in the community dialogue even though I’ve tried ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you liked the new chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary comes home from her trip to a surprise and uncovers another tidbit from her past, pre-demonic possession (lol). Lilith and Zelda make up, but it's starting to look like Lilith is still the root of everyone's problems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a (much longer) chapter! I just wanted to say thank you to those who have sent me words of support so far (you all know who you are ☺️), you are all too kind and it's really nice knowing that people actually read my little fic lol. 
> 
> I know my posting "schedule" isn't very consistent, but I update when I can! I've been going through a weird time at my new job and am currently dealing with some mental health issues as of late. Writing helps, though I took a different approach with this chapter than I originally planned, I found that I like taking the storyline a bit slower for plot's sake, let me know what you think!

“I’m a Fool to Want You” 

The words were scrawled in perfect cursive. The problem? It wasn’t her own writing. Mary hadn’t immediately noticed the napkin on her coffee table upon returning from the city, but when she did, her brow furrowed in that funny little way it does when she was perplexed. Admittedly, she was starting to go crazy with the number of instances where she couldn’t remember where one thing or another was located in her own home—eventually she chalked it all up to it being that demon woman's doing. 

But, no. There was a record sitting idle on the player. A glass of wine, rim stained pink with lipstick, and an empty bottle beside the napkin sat on the coffee table. An astonishingly large emerald ring sat atop the napkin, and it _definitely_ did not belong to her. There was only one person she knew that could have left such a thing...Surely Lilith would have mentioned if she had been in the cottage? 

She and Mary had been in contact more frequently after their first encounter; their meetings had become something of a regular occurrence since Mary’s cottage was on the path to the Academy, Lilith took to popping around either before or after a days work. The woman felt obliged to dedicate herself in making Mary’s life post-possession a normal one. Together they worked through the traumas, the memories that plagued Mary’s brain, and Lilith explained in exhaustive detail the inner-workings of the witching realm, the Church of Night, and the overall events that unravelled after what she liked to call “D.O.P.”--Date of Possession. In all this, a trust formed between the two. Mary had no choice but to trust, she was left with no one in Greendale.

Mary took out her phone and shot off a text to Lilith before she could think. 

 

_-Hi, I’m back in town. Would you have time this week to meet?_

 

Another. 

 

_-Also, just wanted to ask if you had been in the cottage while I was away? You left your ring._

 

Mary attached a picture of the ring on the table and waited for an answer before realizing it was still very early in the morning and wouldn’t be getting an answer until much later. Moving on to unpack her luggage and grade term papers she left behind in her study, Mary forgot all about the ring  

 

* * *

 

_Ping._

The grogginess of the morning was not lost on Lilith, who could hardly get more than two hours of sleep on a good night—it was the curse of being a demon, insomnia comes with the territory of a restless mind. This was the first time in weeks that she was able to gain a healthy amount of sleep, sleeping in the same bed as Zelda had always calmed her. Feeling the warmth of the other woman made her feel safe, almost like she could finally let her guard down... It was a good night, she’d only woken up once and—

_Ping._

—if it weren’t for that darned phone. _Thought I activated “do not disturb”?_ The phone wouldn’t stop vibrating intermittently. Lilith cracked one eye open and saw it was her own phone that illuminated brightly through the still too-dark morning light. She moved to reach for it but was perturbed by the heaviness of Zelda, who was now laying across her midsection awkwardly. _Ah, the phone can wait._  Lilith chuckled at the bizarre potions she catches Zelda in during her slumbers, truth is, she slept like a child. 

“Unnnng.” Zelda groaned, deeply asleep. 

“Zel, I want snuggles.” Lilith whined, lightly pushing against a fleshy stomach. Nothing. Sing-songing, now. “Ze-el...” 

After a couple attempts at cuddles and nuzzling against the woman, Lilith gave up with an exasperated huff. It was useless trying to rouse Zelda from sleep, she was never able to accomplish this in all their time together. No amount of nudging, snuggling, slapping, nor shouting would ever rouse the woman--she was a terribly heavy sleeper.

_Ping._

Peeling Zelda off of her carefully, Lilith sat up and made for the phone again. Seeing that the text was from Mary, the brunette perked up in bed. She read the texts, freezing at the photo of an elaborate emerald ring. _Zelda’s_ emerald ring. Looking over at Zelda, Lilith contemplated whether Zelda was starting to regret choosing her over Mary in the end. Lilith had always found it curious that Zelda cherished the ring so, never once taking it off, and it was starting to make sense as to why. She never pressed about it, figuring that the ring was simply a favorite of Zelda’s. Zelda had a tendency to obsess over objects, perhaps this ring held a special memory of her time with Mary? What Lilith knew of the nature of their relationship was that they had had a one night stand years ago but only just begun to secretly see each other just before Mary’s possession… 

_I have to keep Mary from knowing this...it’s only protecting her from the complication of realizing she cheated on Adam, a nice Christian gentleman, with a wanton woman like Zelda._ Lilith thought. And contemplating further, she realized that she was not only protective of Mary, but she was starting to feel territorial over the two women in her life. So, she wrote back to Mary:

 

_good morning! yes, i must have left my ring the last time i was over._

 

Staring at the phone, she thought to herself: _No, Lilith, don’t lie about this. Why lie about this?_

 

Deleting the text, she wrote instead:

 

_good morning! nope, not mine. you sure you didn’t leave it on the table before leaving town?_

 

She didn’t feel good about gaslighting Mary after all she put her through, but she really didn’t think that explaining the relationship between Zelda and the teacher so soon after explaining that Lucifer himself had killed, and ate, Adam. At the end of the day, Lilith wanted to keep the women separated for selfish reasons. Without waiting for a reply, she silenced her phone and returned to bed, scooping Zelda into her arms.

 

* * *

 

Mary hadn’t finished grading papers until hours later. Her eyes stung from deciphering terrible handwriting and the copious amounts of coffee consumed left her shaky and anxious. 

Picking up her phone, she saw that Lilith had responded: “ _nope. not mine…”_ The brunette stared at those words, knowing something was off. She was sure she hadn’t left anything out of place, she always liked to clean before leaving town as it relieved her to come back to a clean home. Mary felt unsettled, she knew there was something being hidden from her--again--and despite growing to trust Lilith, she did technically kill and possess her... Mary set her phone down on a pile of graded papers and made her way downstairs to study the ring. She hadn’t really touched the contents sprawled on the coffee table, she figured that it wasn’t a big deal and hadn’t even looked at the ring, really. 

Once downstairs, she picked up the wine bottle and glass. And glancing once more at the ring, the woman found that it looked vaguely familiar. On her way to the kitchen, the thought of it preoccupied her. 

_Think, Mary, think._  

Whenever Mary tried to think about her certain aspects of her past, it was almost like there was a mental block. In her meetings with Lilith, she would give her potions that claimed to restore memories, and for the most part, they worked. 

_But what if those memory potions worked only in the way that Lilith wanted them to work?_ Mary thought, _It certainly would explain there still being holes in my memory--gaping holes._  

She couldn’t place her finger on where she might know this ring from, but she knew she had something to do with it. Going back to the coffee table, she picked up the ring and turned it over and over, fingering the surface. A glint from inside the band caught her eye and she read the etching: “Darling M, eternally yours, Z.”

“Uh…” Mary, putting two and two together, suddenly made her way to the photo album on her bookcase and hastily flipped through it, desperate to find confirmation to where her mind brought her. There were empty slots in random places throughout the album, but her eyes landed on one photo in particular. It was a candid photo of herself in the middle of the woods on a misty early morning, she was looking up and away from the photographer caught in a moment of complete bliss. The striking thing about the photo was the ring on her hand. It was an exact copy of the one found on her coffee table. Mary turned the photo over to reveal the words “My darling M, a photo cannot possibly begin to capture the beauty I see before me. Yours, Z.” Rushing over to the back to the coffee table, Mary inspected the handwriting on the napkin and the photo. And when picking up the napkin, she noticed there was something written on the back--a phone number.

And, without thought, Mary picked up the phone and dialed the number. The phone rang exactly once and a voice on the other line breathed “...Mary?”

“...I thought it was you…”

A pause.

“We need to talk.”


End file.
